


And Tread Once More Familiar Paths

by xxan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxan/pseuds/xxan
Summary: It wasn’t like reincarnation was some great big mystical concept.  By now, it was completely accepted that sometime in your current life, you were going to remember something from a past life.  Tony Stark's mother was worried when Tony turned ten and still hadn’t remembered anything, but the reincarnation specialist had assured her that some people began to remember as early as toddlers, and some as late as puberty.But now Tony was 36, and he had never remembered anything.





	1. stone by stone/i ended here all alone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading! This story will be three chapters long when finished; one for Tony, one for Steve, and one for both :) . This fic combines many of my favorite tropes, like reincarnation and soulmates.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

It wasn’t like reincarnation was some great big mystical concept.  By now, it was completely accepted that sometime in your current life, you were going to remember something from a past life.  For most people, it was a string of small, and often precious moments; the feel of a lover’s lips, a baby swaddled in blue, the sounds of a long extinct songbird.

Until Tony Stark remembered his past life, his mother used to hold him and tell him stories about her previous memories to tide him over.   _Elapsed Anamnesis,_ his brain whispered to him.  His favorite was the story was of the handmaiden who fell in love with the prince.  His mother refused to tell him if they ever got married, and so Tony would make up his own stories.

_(Once upon a time, there was a prince who loved the stable boy.  The prince was strong and handsome, but the stable boy was fair and sweet.  And the prince knew he could not marry for love and rule his kingdom fairly!  When the stable boy told the prince he loved him back, they held hands as they ran away together into the night.)_

His mother was worried when Tony turned ten and still hadn’t remembered anything, but the reincarnation specialist had assured her that some people began to remember as early as toddlers, and some as late as puberty.

When Tony’s voice finally cracked, he was in college.  Puberty came and went, and he still remembered nothing.  The day he realized he was one of them, those cursed dead souls, he drunkenly tumbled into bed with someone who was much too old for him.

Rhodey found him the next morning in a puddle of his own vomit.

“How old are you?”  He demanded, after shaking Tony awake.  Tony groaned before stuttering out an age much older than his own.

“Bullshit.  How old are you really?  And what’s your name?”

“Fifteen.  And my name’s Anthony Stark, but you can call me Tony.”  Tony finished off with a wink before promptly vomiting on Rhodey’s shoes.

After Tony had sobered up, he bought Rhodey five pairs of shoes and offered to sleep with him.  Rhodey had accepted the shoes but absolutely refused to have sex with him.  And from then on, whenever Tony did something stupid, Rhodey was always there to catch him when he fell.

When Tony turned 21, Rhodey had taken him out to a bar for his first legal drink.  Of course, they had gotten uproariously drunk.  After about seven beers, Tony was finally ready to spill his deepest, most shameful secret.  The next day, when Tony was wondering if Rhodey had remembered, Rhodey had pulled Tony into a hug and held him for a long time.  It was the first time in a long while that he hadn’t felt broken.

_(The prince and the stable boy journeyed across the land to find a place to live.  The first friend they met was a boat maker.  When the boat maker learned that they were soulmates searching for a new home, he gave them his fastest boat.  They thanked him and continued on their journey.)_

Tony took over his company, and went through a string of incompetent assistants before finding Virginia Potts.  He immediately nicknamed her Pepper.  As they shook hands for the first time, Tony had smelt her perfume and he nearly cried, because he remembered it from somewhere else.  But when Pepper had politely informed him that she had no memory of him, and that her perfume was only a few decades old, it occurred to Tony that she had simply been wearing the same one his mother had worn right before her death.  To come so close to normalcy before it was ripped away was a harsh stab of pain, and it had hurt worse than Tony’s usual dull ache.

_(A little ways down the river, they met a woman washing clothes in the river.  She was bored of her dull life, and when they offered to take her with them, she happily agreed.)_  


A few years later, Tony had been taken by the Ten Rings.  He thought for sure that he was going to die.  After all, the universe had made it abundantly clear to him that he was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.  

When Ho Yinsen had told Tony that he would see his family again, Tony had assumed they were still alive and waiting for him.  But right before Yinsen had stormed the compound halls to buy Tony some more time, he had told Tony that ' _It always ended like this’._    For once, Tony was grateful he didn’t remember his past.  He never knew how he and his family were going to die.

_(Sometimes, the prince would have nightmares about failing his kingdom, but the stable boy always hugged him and told him how much he was loved.)_

And then Tony was Iron Man, and he finally had a purpose.  As Iron Man, he didn’t have to be an unfinished man.  Tony decided that he would repeat the agent in the suit’s lie.  He would keep Iron Man, hero, and Tony Stark, dead souled, separate.

_(One day, the wizard from the king's court caught up to them and cursed the prince for running away.  The prince immediately fell into a deep sleep.  The wizard assured the stable boy that only the bravest knight in the land could revive the sleeping prince.  Distraught, the stable boy gathered up his soulmate's body and once again boarded his boat.  He traveled across the sea, to every neighboring kingdom, but alas, none could wake the poor prince.)_  


After promoting Pepper to CEO, Tony hired a new assistant.  Natalie Rushman had fiery red hair and fantastic tits.  Oh, and she was a super secret spy, but hey.  Tony was dying anyways.  He managed to keep his secret identity, but the Black Widow was apparently an expert in reading people’s souls.

“How long?”  He asked Natalie.  Or Natasha, now.  “How long have you known?”  And bless her own soul for not even trying to play dumb.

“Four days.  It would have been longer, but you hide it much better than anyone else.”  

“There are others?”  He asked, and winced.  He was 35 goddamn years old and he owned a Fortune 500 company.  He should not care about some universal quirk.  (And yet, here he was.)

“There are always others.”  Natasha lips puckered into what might have been a smile, but Tony could see the haunted look that quickly flashed in her eyes.

_(After many years of trying, and failing, to save his lost love, the stable boy gathered his one true love in his arms and cried.  He had traveled the world twice over trying to save his love, and had grown from boy to man.  And finally, cradled in the arms of the one he loved, the prince awoke.)_

Later that night, when Tony was almost finally sleeping, he had JARVIS make a note about the other dead souls.

“Certainly, Sir.”  JARVIS whispered.  For the first time in months, Tony slept through the night.


	2. brick by brick/i woke myself up from happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve grows up with his own anamnesis issues.

“Do you want to kill Nazis?” The small German man asked.  Or Erskine, as Steve Rogers would later learn.

“Is this a test?” Steve replied.

“Yes,” Erskine said simply.

“I don’t want to kill anyone.  I don’t like bullies.  I don’t care where they’re from.”

“Well.  There are already so many big men off fighting this war.  Maybe what we need now is a little guy, huh? ”  Erskine’s thick accent clipped the words.  “I can offer you a chance─only a chance.”

“I’ll take it.”  

Erskine gave a small smile.

“There’s one more thing you ought to know.”  Steve continued.  “I have Complete Anamnesis.  Will that be a problem?”

The doctor stopped and took a last probing look at Steve, before grinning and saying, “I should hope not.  Let’s see what we can do, yes?”

* * *

 

Steve Rogers was born with all his memories.  He remembered every past life, great and small.  His mother encouraged his _anamnesis_ , as long as he kept it between the two of them.

“ _ A leanbh _ ,” she would say.  “Your memories are precious.  You are incredibly rare!  Few people have ever been born with all of their memories.  However, people like you are always hurt by those who cannot understand.  Little man, to keep your memories safe, you must be careful whom you trust.”

His doctor believed Steve’s memories stunted his growth.  Complete Anamnesis, he had called it.  

“The mental and emotional trauma of remembering too much has most certainly affected his body’s physical development.” He told Steve’s mamma in a hushed voice.  “His chronic illnesses and almost every other medical condition are just symptoms of his CA.  And unfortunately, there is no cure yet.  As long as he has all these memories, he will not grow.”

“But why’m I like this?”  Steve asked.

The doctor gave Steve a small smile.  “No one quite knows why or how the universe works.  We only know the affects that it may have on humans.  For some reason, she decided to bless you with every memory you have ever known.  I am sure that she did it for a purpose.  It’s up to you to figure out why, alright?”

Steve hated that answer, but with his mother watching, he could only nod his head in consent.  Later that night, his mother would hold him in her arms and they would cry together.

Because of Steve’s frequent illnesses and his odd CA associated behavior, he struggled making friends.  Steve was mostly fine with that, since he remembered his soulmate.  Even as a child, Steve knew not to mention his soulmate, as soulmates were rare and hard to prove.  And worse still, his soulmate was almost always a boy.  Homosexuality was a crime, of course, but if two homosexual people filed for a soulmate license and were approved, then the state was willing to look the other way.  (Steve had heard of only one legal gay couple on the entire East Coast.) Steve quashed the lecherous feelings he had towards other guys, and told his mother he was certain his soulmate would be a girl.

After his mother died, Steve sat by her gravestone for hours, until the sun was peeking back up at the other end of the sky.  Steve decided he should head back to his clapbox apartment.  As he turned the corner, he ran into a man who looked to be about his own age.  Steve gasped aloud; he remembered this boy from a few lifetimes ago.

“Roger!”  The young man cried out in obvious delight.

“It’s Steve now,” Steve said, rather dumbly.  He always had trouble remembering names, because he already had so many floating in his brain from everyone he had ever known.

“Nice to meet you again, Steve!  I’m Arnie, this time.”  Arnie said with a grin.  Arnie was tall, with brown hair and an infectious grin.  His eyes always looked sad, for as long as Steve knew him.  And Steve had known him for half a decade.  Lost and adrift, Steve grew attached to Arnie.  With Arnie, Steve found himself in the midst of the anti-anamneses, a radical group who eschewed society’s perceptions of reincarnation.  Arnie had been a supporter since the day he turned eighteen.

“The idea that a soul has to be reincarnated to matter is bullshit.”  He told Steve one day.  He and Steve had been walking back from an AnAm gathering at in someone’s basement.  Arnie could drag Steve to about half of those meetings while Bucky wasn’t looking.  While Arnie preferred to stand near the front of the room, and once or twice at the very front, giving an impassioned speech on dead souls’ rights, Steve always preferred to stand in the back, away from everyone’s eyes.  (Steve knew his Complete Anamnesis was as plain as the golden hair on his head, and he did not want to become the poster child for fucked up reincarnation.)

“But you have a soulmate.” Steve replied.

“Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to belittle those who don’t!”

Two weeks before Bucky shipped out, there was a raid at the latest AnAm meeting that Steve and Arnie had gone to.  Arnie had grabbed Steve’s hand and taken off in the nick of time.  They wouldn’t see each other again in this lifetime.

Steve estimated he had about 274 previous lives.  Honestly, it was hard to keep track of all of them.  He also estimated that in at least 249 of these, he had known his soulmate.  Sometimes, they died together in accidents or war.  Sometimes, Steve had held his soulmate as he died, and sometimes, his soulmate held him.  But everytime he had died, Steve had always fallen asleep feeling loved and had woken up cold and so very alone.  That’s why Steve always felt a chattering in his bones, an ache so deep it froze his fingertips.  Bucky always did complain about Steve’s chill, even after the serum.

“It’s like you suck the warmth right out of the air!”  He would grumble, but that never stopped him from hugging Steve with all his might.

Before the serum, Steve would lay awake, ranking favorite lives, trying to picture what his soulmate would look like this time.  (He hoped they would have soft eyes again.)  After the serum, Steve lost 271 of those lives.  Erskine had warned him.  The memories stunted his growth.  Steve knew the sacrifice that had to be made.  Besides, it wasn’t like his abundance of memories served any actual purpose.

Steve had lost most of his _anamnesis_ , but he still had the memories of kind eyes.  He never did forget those eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a leanbh: literally translates to 'my child' in Irish Gaelic.  
> Hi. My name is xxan and I suck at storytelling. And responding to things. And world building. Arnie was inspired by kdorian's comment; they wanted to know why I called people without memories dead souls instead of new souls, and while I didn't fully explain it, I did try to delve more into this world. This originally had Steve remembering everything even after the serum, with him re-meeting Peggy and Howard, but I had to cut those parts once I realized that it would make a better story (read: drama) next chapter. There's, like, a 33% chance I'll rewrite this chapter sometime once I get the hang of it, but I was tired of staring at it in my docs. I'm still learning how to tell stories, and I do appreciate y'all sticking around! :) Thanks for reading!


	3. too much time/but i finally found you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um I picked anamnesis as the reincarnation word because it was a synonym for memory and sounded pseudo-medical, but as I was trying to figure out a good name for the Big Bad, I stumbled across the wikipedia page for anamnesis, and apparently anamnesis is was Plato used to describe how humans possess knowledge of past lives (?!). AND ADDITIONALLY, PEOPLE FORGET THEIR PAST LIVES BECAUSE OF THE TRAUMA OF CHILDBIRTH??? AND YOU REMEMBER LITTLE BY LITTLE??? I am a tiny bit convinced im the reincarnation of plato??? Soooo anyways, I learned a lot, and I am a little freaked out by how that worked out. TL;DR: I picked a pretty word at random, and it turns out it already meant what I made it mean...  
> as always, unbeta'ed. i wrote the bulk of this last chapter in one sitting, and i just want it out of my wips.

_ 'I shall never leave you, my love!’ He exclaimed.  Was it raining, or was he just crying?  ‘As long as the sun will shine, as long as my skin clings to my bones.  I shall love you till our bodies rot and the stars fade!’ _

_ ‘This I know, my love,’  his lover replied, eyes fluttering closed.  ‘Just know I love you back.  As long as the sun shall shine.’ _

Tony jerked awake and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  

“Sir, it is 8:58 in the morning.  You are in New York, in the tower.  Pepper Potts is currently at home.”  cut in JARVIS’s smooth tone.

This was why he didn’t like to sleep anymore.  If he wasn’t dreaming about ghosts he used to know, he dreamt about ghosts he never did know –ghosts he physically could not know.  And there was not a damn soul he could tell.  With the (nearly miraculous) exception of Pepper, those who knew too much about him always died.  And he already had his name plastered on his building.  There was no need to stir up trouble, after all.

Tony pulled himself out of his bed before starting his day.  He could smell coffee already brewed in the maker in the corner.

“Thanks, J.” he groaned and gulped down his mug.  “Take a raise.”

“I was not aware I even had a salary.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Tony couldn’t help but grin at his absolutely perfect AI.  He was so proud of himself for making something so fucking cool.

Tony grinned his way all the way down to the communal floor.  Sure, he had his own kitchen in his personal suite, but it was nice to eat with people, even if those people would never like him as much as they liked Iron Man.  When the elevator doors opened, Tony could hear snippets of conversations coming from the kitchen.

“You know what, here's the thing about Die Hard 4.”  Clint was saying.  A spoon hung out of his mouth, clipping the ending off some of his words.  Each one of the Avengers looked on in some form of amusement.  “Die Hard one, the original, John McClane was just this normal guy.  You know, he's just a normal New York City cop, who gets his feet cut, and gets beat up.  But he's an everyday guy. In Die Hard 4, he is jumping a motorcycle into a helicopter.  In air.  You know?  He's invincible.  It just sort of lost what Die Hard was.  It's not Terminator.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow.  “You should review movies.”

“Hey!  Don’t tease m–” Clint stopped and frowned.  “Wait.  Were you serious?”

“Дуpaк,” Natasha said affectionately.  Tony snorted from where he stood in the doorway.

“Hey, Tony.” Clint said.  “What's up?”

“Not much.  Is Steve around?”

“Oh sure.  Of course.  Steve.  We know where he is.  He's definitely here–”  Clint was cut off by a jab from Natasha.  Tony decided he was too tired to figure out what that meant.

“We haven't seen him today.  Sam mentioned going somewhere with Steve today, but we don't know where.”  Natasha said.

Tony groaned.  “Well, if you _do_  see him, send him down to my lab, okay?”

“We’d _love_  to send him down.” Clint said, a bit too smugly.  Again, Natasha prodded him, and again, Tony couldn’t deal with...whatever that was right now.

“Alright.  I’m gonna go now.” Tony ducked out.

Tony was knee deep (only figuratively this time) in some widow’s bite upgrades for Natasha when Steve got back from whatever he was doing with Sam.  It wasn’t like Tony was jealous or anything, because they weren’t together.  Technically.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve broke Tony out of his work.  “Nat sent me down.  She said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Great!” Suddenly, Tony couldn’t find it in himself to just get it over with.  “How was your thing with Sam?  Was it great?  I bet it was great!”

Steve tilted his head at Tony.  “It was.  C’mon, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Tony swallowed.  It was now or never.  “Woodyoolyktogotoagalawithmee?”  He slurred out.

“What was that?”

“I said, would you like to go to a gala with me?  The Maria Stark Foundation is having its first gala of the season in a three days and a portion of the proceeds are going to the Anamnesis Divergent Society.  Of course, not all proceeds because otherwise those fat old bastards wouldn’t donate  –” Was he rambling?  It felt like he was rambling.  “– and it’s a cause very near and dear to my heart and I just wanted to bring –”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, _finally_.  “I’d love to go.”

“Really?  Most people blanch when they find out it’s for _Anamnesis_ awareness.  I just kind of figured that would go against ‘the American way’ and all.”

“Why do people always assume I’m so conservative?  Are Americans really that bad nowadays?”  Steve had been awake for years now, and had seen an awful lot, both good and bad.  He never thought American values would be so close minded.

“Eh, probably not.  It’s just that people are still pretty divided about reincarnation.  It’s just easier to pretend everything’s daisies than admit there are flaws in the universal  system.”

“I get that.  I just don’t get why _I’m_  considered this poster child for perfect _Anamnesis_ , is all.”  Steve huffed.

“You’re not?” Tony blinked.  His heart swelled a little.   _No_ , he tamped down on the feeling.   _Don’t get your hopes up_.

“Not even a little, much to Bucky’s chagrin.”  Steve said with a laugh.  It warmed Tony to know that Steve could talk about his old friend without as much pain as before.  “I was briefly in the AnAms.”

Tony felt his eyes popping out of his head.  “You?  Part of the Anti-Anamnesis Revolution?”  This was unbelievable!  How could it be that Steve Rogers, the pinnacle of human perfection with the memories of multiple whole lifetimes, was part of the underground AnAm culture?  Howard had loved to tell Tony, who couldn’t even manage to remember a single fucking thing, about the late and great Steve Rogers, who could remember at least three distinct past lives _and_  had a soulmate, although Howard and Steve never did elaborate on that.

“Yeah.  I mostly stood in the back.”  Steve grew quieter.

“What was it like?  Did members really hold an inner revolt over the quality of the liquor served at meetings?  Did you meet Arnie Roth?”  Tony fired off his questions.  Most members were either dead or so senile they believed they were still in the repressed 1930s.

“I–I don’t know.”  Steve’s smile was gone completely now.

Tony faltered.  Had he read the signs wrong?

“I need to go.  I’m sorry, Tony.  I just have to go.”  Tony groaned inwardly.  And they had been doing so well, too, almost a full month without a fight.

“Cap, wait!”  Tony called after him.  Steve paused.  “I mean...it’s just that there’s a tailor coming tomorrow to fit you for your tuxedo.  That is, if you still want to go.”

“Of course I still want to go.  And Tony, I really am sorry about this.”  Steve threw one last wry smile over his shoulder before marching out the door, leaving Tony to stare dumbfoundedly at what had happened.

* * *

 

Tony should have known Steve would look damn fine in a suit.  The suit was a deep, rich blue that made Steve’s eyes shine.  Barely visible to the naked eye and in the same color as the rest of the suit, tiny stars were embroidered over the entire suit.  It fit so nicely Tony would have assumed Steve had been melted and poured into it if he hadn’t known better.  He was going to have to have _words_  with Marcel on the appropriateness of tight shirts for a charity gala.

“Tony!”  Steve said, beaming as he took Tony in.  “You look...incredible.”  

And well, Tony already knew that, but it was still nice to hear it.  “You too, big guy.”

“Tony, I wanted to apologize again for the other day.  Talking about the past is still hard for me.”

“I get it, Cap.  No worries.”  Tony could live with that, he supposed.

“No, I want you to know that I want to tell you.  I just need time to process it, is all.”  Steve directed his gaze at Tony, who found it hard not to squirm under his bright stare.

“When you’re ready, tell me.”

“I will.”

They stood there for another moment or two, enjoying each other’s company.  

“So, should we get going?”  Steve asked.

“Right!  Of course!”  Steve settled his hand on the small of Tony’s back as he guided them to the garage, where Happy was waiting with the Tesla.  The drive was pleasant enough, and when they got there, Tony led them through the flashing cameras with ease.

Steve tried his best to behave himself, but he could only take so much bigotry in one night.  It seemed that New York’s richest really had trouble helping causes that didn’t directly help them.  Tony had assured him that only a portion of the night’s proceeds would go to the Anamnesis Divergent Society, despite Steve repeating that he already donates to the charity monthly.  Steve couldn’t get a read on Tony; it was clear that Tony was privately very involved with ADS, but he kept pushing the Foundation’s other philanthropic endeavors instead.  To make matters worse, Steve knew he didn’t have a right to ask Tony why he was so touchy about _anamnesis_ , when he himself had to live with the fact that he had given up his own memories and soulmate to get the serum.  Of course, the serum had kept him alive in the ice, and the future had given him Tony…

Steve was halfway finished calculating the angle to best get the fuck out of a particularly awful conversation with a nastily conservative governor and an openly shameless heiress when he felt a tapping on his elbow.  Sure, no one knew him as more than Steve Rogers, friend of Tony Stark and occasional artist, but these people could sniff out influence.  He turned and saw Tony, grinning with a smile that nearly reached his eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt you lovely folks, but my very nice date here promised me at least one dance.  If you don’t mind, Steve?”  Tony extended a hand.

“Not at all.”  Steve gratefully gripped Tony’s hand.  Tony led him to the center of the room, where other couples gracefully twirled about.  The band struck up a waltz, and Steve breathed out a relieved sigh.  He could follow the steady one-two-three beat easier than any other type of dance.

And he did.  The two of them stepped together perfectly, and Steve forgot about anything other than the solid key signature and the feel of Tony’s hand in his own.  Tony must have set up some arrangement with the band, because as soon as the first song ended, a new waltz began.  Steve lost track of how many waltzes they danced to that night.  He also got more daring, letting Tony dip him and then dipping Tony in return.  Dear God, but this was magnificent!  It was everything Steve had wanted dancing to be like when he was younger and skinnier.  Steve could see Tony wearing out, but he still moved perfectly in time, still beamed at Steve as they floated through the room.  Steve heard a great swelling from the orchestra, and he felt their bodies grow closer and closer, their mouths so close to touching he could feel Tony's breath ghosting with his.   _Finally_ , they were going to kiss after months of flirting and pining!  Steve closed his eyes, and leaned in the extra inch—

Only to be distracted by a loud bang, followed closely by screaming.  He jerked away, but not before making eye contact with Tony.  He could see the his own bitterness reflected on Tony’s face.  He didn’t have long to reflect though; he could see this week’s baddie flying around on a really shitty looking jetpack.  This guy was bald and white, and monologuing about something.  Fortunately, at the moment, it seemed he was content to get his spiel off his chest.

“Get out of here!”  He told Tony, who nodded quickly before joining the quickly moving crowd of screaming party goers.  The ballroom was mostly cleared out, and Steve could see a few people loitering, unsure how to help.

“Come on!”  He waved them on.  “We need to get out of here!  The Avengers have got to be on their way!”

Steve and the few stragglers managed to make it out before the big bad even noticed his surroundings.  Just as Steve pulled out his comm to check on his teammates’ ETA, he heard a familiar whirring sound and _thunk_  and Iron Man landed next to him.

“Shellhead!  Glad you could make it.  It’s not a party without you.” 

Iron Man snorted and threw Steve a round bag, and Steve could feel the weight of the shield inside.  

“Something tells me it wasn’t much of a party anyways, what with the smoke and screaming and such.”

“And here I thought that was how you partied nowadays.”  Iron Man gave a small chuckle.

“As much as I love a man wearing a Westwood fitted to the gods, something tells me your ten thousand dollar suit isn’t the right one for the job.”  Iron Man said, his voice modulated, but still distinctly Iron Man.   _Ten thousand dollars?_   That was a ridiculously amount of money to spend on anything, really.  Steve was going to have to have words with Tony after this.  Speaking of—

“Have you seen Tony?”  Steve said, quickly yanking down his cowl.

“Yeah, he said he was going to head back to the Tower,”  came the modulated reply.  He scooped Steve up, and they flew back inside.

“Good.  I think this jerk broke up our first date.”  Steve said, a little bitterly.

“Oh…?”  Iron Man seemed confused.  Maybe Tony hadn’t told him his sexuality?

“We had this moment and things were almost perfect and then… Oh for the love of God.”  They had made it back to the ballroom, where the asshole in a jetpack was currently just flying around and smashing tables.  Steve threw his shield right at the guy, and he and Iron Man could hear the metallic clank as it bounced off and back to Steve.

“The mighty Avengers!”  The guy proclaimed, spreading his arms in greeting.  Clutched in one meaty paw was a crude looking ray gun.  One of the jets on his suit was quite obviously sputtering.  “So glad you could finally make it!  I am—” An arrow sliced through the air announcing the arrival of the rest of the Avengers and grazed his cheek. “Ouch!  Let me finish my monologue, jackasses!  I am—” Steve threw his shield again.  This time, it hit the other jet.  Both were now billowing gray smoke.  Iron Man snickered.  “Fuck you, Captain America!  I am—”  A widow’s bite imbedded itself in his neck, and he howled.  “Goddamn it, that’s it!  Fight this!”  He shot a beam of light directly at Steve, but Iron Man immediately leaped in the way.  Iron Man began to fall, but before Steve could him, the bad guy plucked Iron Man out of the air.

“Iron Man!”  The Black Widow threw three more widow’s bites, and each successfully embedded themselves in the baddie’s other arm and legs.  Each bite caused him to jerk, but he didn’t let go of Iron Man.

“I was going for the Captain, but I’ll settle for the Invincible Iron Man instead!”  He cackled, and swooped up through the air.

“I shall save him!”  Thor shouted, swinging his hammer over his head.

“No!”  Steve shouted.  “I don’t want Iron Man to get hurt.  Falcon, follow them!   We’ll try to follow them on the streets!”

“On it,” Sam replied before shooting after them.  The remaining Avengers ran outside.

“Avengers, split up.  Thor, try and see if you can’t change the weather and force them out of the sky.”  Steve ordered.  “Falcon report.  What do you see?”

“I see this asshole carrying Iron Man over New York.  He’s going slow enough that at this rate I should be able to catch up in about two minutes.  I don’t know how he’s carrying Iron Man, that suit’s like, three hundred pounds.   Wait, what is that?  Cap, they’ve started glowing and—”  Steve could hear a large boom about a mile away.  

“Shit!”  Sam continued.  “Avengers, did you hear that?  There was this large explosion, and the smoke is already starting to clear, but I lost visuals and I can’t see them anymore!”

Steve stopped in his tracks.

“Steve, they’re gone!  I don’t know how he did it, but he disappeared and he took Iron Man with him!”

* * *

Tony awoke hungry and very, very sore.  He also found himself naked save for his underwear, and chained to a wall.  He sighed.  It was going to be one of those days.

“So glad you decided to wake up, Iron Man.”  The man who kidnapped him said from across the room.  “Or should I say… Tony Stark?”

Fuck.  Tony struggled against his restraints.

“Calm down, Tony.  There’s no use is fighting.  Your suit is fried, and you are powerless.”

Tony couldn’t help but smirk.  His suit couldn’t die.  That was the point of the fucking suit.  This asshole didn’t know his suit was dormant and probably still broadcasting his location. 

“What’s so funny, Iron Man?  I got you.  You’re trapped.”

“You’ll find out.  We aren’t called the Avengers for nothing.”

“We’ll see about that.  Meanwhile, I’ve got you here, completely powerless.  Who knew Tony Stark was a dead soul?”

Tony froze.  “How do you know that?”

“My name is Neo.  And I can read a person’s entire life, and their previous ones, too.”

* * *

 

It had only taken eighteen hours to track Iron Man’s suit and find the abandoned asylum where it, and hopefully Iron man, was being kept.

“At least it’s not a warehouse, this time.”  Clint said blandly on the Quinjet ride.

“Yeah, but asylums and mental health institutes have got to be in the top five spots for evil lairs,”  Sam replied.

“Fair enough.”

“Everyone know the drill?”  Steve asked, too anxious to joke around.  Tony still hadn’t been seen since the gala, and at this point, only Iron Man would know how to find him.

“Don’t worry, Cap.  I’m sure we’ll find him,”  Nat said from the pilot’s seat.  The exit hatch opened up, and the Avengers dropped down one by one.

“I am, too.”  And with that, Steve jumped out.  He could hear Natasha faintly curse and complain about his hatred of parachutes.

He rolled onto the roof with a soft thud.  Sam and Thor stood beside him.  Hopefully, Clint was already in position to enter through the ground floor.

“Ready, Avengers?”  Steve asked.  The others gave him their affirmations.  “Avengers, move out.”

He broke down the roof door and rushed down the stairs with Sam close behind.  Thor stayed on the roof, using his lightning to jam the electricity and radio signals in the building.

The top floor was empty.  So was the nest floor, and the next floor, and the next.  Finally, on the fifth floor, they found the Iron Man suit looking pretty mangled.  They saw some blood spatters, but fortunately not enough to indicate Iron Man had bled out.

“Relax, Steve.”  Sam said.  “Knowing Iron Man, that’s probably the other guy’s blood.”

Steve swallowed and nodded.  They left the room.  As they walked out, Steve held up a hand.  He could hear voices coming from down the hall.  They crept towards the door.  It was one of those metal doors that apparently all unsafe asylums have, with tiny cell-like rooms and metal tables with straps.  Jesus, but what was this place?  Looking around, Steve saw that this hall was full of these doors, and most of the floors above him had been, too.  They each crouched on either side of the door.

Using the reflection on the door across the hall’s peephole, Steve could see the bad guy, who blocked another figure behind him from view.  From what could tell, this room was slightly bigger than the others, with a special viewing area just inside the door, with a glass-walled, smaller room inside.  People were hospitalized here?  The thought made Steve sick.  He broke down the door and it flung across the room.  He snarled as snatched up the guy by his throat.

“I wouldn’t kill me, if I were you.”  He rasped out.

“And why not?”  Steve growled.

“Because if you do, you’ll never find out about your precious Iron Man.”

Steve’s eyes widened.  Iron Man!  He glanced to his left and saw _Tony_ , chained to the wall, almost completely naked, with an arc reactor sticking out of his chest.  Fuck!  Tony was Iron Man?  And Tony had the reactor in his chest?  Steve’s hands shook.

“What did you do to him?”

“Relax, Captain.  He’s fine.  I was going to return him in the same condition I found him in.  Well, almost.”  He smirked, and Steve threw him against the metal wall, hard enough to dent it.

“Tony!”  Steve punched through his door, too.

“Steve…!”  Tony looked out of it, but glad to see him.  Steve cradled his face.

“Are you okay?”

“I am now, Big Guy.”  Tony grinned.  Then, his eyes grew dark.  “Fuck, Steve, I’m so sorry about this.”

Steve began yanking on Tony’s chains.  “Don’t worry about it right now.  I’m sure you’ll explain everything when you get the chance.”  He freed one arm.  Tony collapsed a little, but Steve was there to support him.

“How fitting that you two are reunited.”  Shouted a voice from across the room.  Steve gasped; he could see his teammates knocked out behind him.  Who was this man?

“Oh, fuck yourself, Morpheus.”  Tony coughed out.

“It’s Neo!!  How many times do I have to tell you!!”  Neo screamed.  He was waving his weird raygun around.  “I’ll kill you for this, Captain America, and you too, Iron Man.  Just like last time!!”  He leveled his gun, and Steve protectively stepped in front of Tony.  Tony grasped his hand, and Steve’s vision whited out.  Suddenly, he could remember every life.  He could remember Tony in nearly every one of them.  He remembered them living, and dying, and crying, and loving.  He replayed every lost memory like the beautiful symphony it was.

* * *

Steve came to in a hospital bed.  He felt a hand clutching his.  His eyes opened with difficulty, and he struggled to sit up.

“Down, Big Guy.”  A gentle voice said, and hands pressed him back down.

“Tony, where’s Tony?”  He rasped.

“Right here,”  The hand holding his squeezed, and Steve’s vision stopped swimming.

“Tony!  You’re alive!”  He began to sit up again.

“Steve, you have to stay in bed.  Your body is incredibly exhausted.”

“But Neo…!”

“Neo is in custody.  Nat arrived just in time to take him down.”  Steve relaxed, and settled back into his pillow.

“That a boy.  Er, man.”  Tony soothed.  “Do you know what happened?  Did he hit you with anything?  Your EEG was off the charts.”

“Tony, he didn’t hit me with anything.  But standing between you and the barrel of a gun, I remembered my past lives.  All of them.”

“You what.”  It wasn’t a question.  If anything, Tony seemed more nervous than anything else.

“I remembered all of them!  Why didn’t you say anything to me?  I’m so sorry for hurting you.”  Steve hung his head.

“Sorry?  For what?”  Tony had no clue what he was talking about.

“That I gave up my memories for the serum.  That I gave up you.”  Steve looked at him earnestly.  “I’m sorry I forget you, my soulmate.”

Tony heard a loud roaring in his ears.

“Your what?!”

“You know this.  I’m your soulmate, and that part of the serum blocked my _anamnesis_.”  Steve stopped at Tony’s confused face.  “You… you know you’re my soulmate, don’t you?”

Tony shook his head.  “Steve, I’m so sorry.  I still care about you, but I’m not your soulmate.  I can’t be anyone’s soulmate.  You are wrong, and i am so, so sorry.”

“Tony what—”  Steve started.  But Tony was already out the door.  “Tony!  Come back!”

* * *

 

SHIELD let Steve go home two days later.  His body was fine, but they hadn’t liked the looks of his EEG readings, so they kept him under observation.  Sam came to visit him, and told him that Tony had confirmed to the rest of the team that he was Iron Man, and that he hadn’t come out of his workshop since he got home from the hospital.

“It’s weird, man.  Before, we couldn’t drag him away from your side long enough for him to eat.  Now, he won’t leave his lab.  JARVIS has it on full lockdown.  No one can leave, and no one can enter.”  Sam told him when Steve when he drove him home from the hospital.  “JARVIS can’t tell anyone about anything, and not even Rhodey and Pepper know how to coax him out.  Speaking of, they think you found out about Tony’s condition and rejected him, so be prepared for that.”

“Condition?”  Steve asked.

“Oh, yeah, guess you weren’t there.  When Tony came out as Iron Man, he told us the reason he kept it a secret was because he was _anamnesis_ deficient.  Said he never had a single memory.”

Steve sucked in a breath.  How could that be?  He _knew_  Tony was his soulmate.  His eyes hadn’t changed at all.  When both had their memories, soulmates could easily identify each other, even if they were technically strangers in this life.

“Are you sure?”  Steve said.  “Because, Sam, Tony is my soulmate.”

Sam grinned and wolf-whistled.  “Good for you two!  As soon as we get back to the tower, you have got to explain everything.  But be careful to avoid Rhodey and Pepper; they want your blood.”

“They’ll have to get in line.”

Sam punched him on his shoulder.

As predicted, Tony was in his workshop.

“I am sorry, Steve,”  JARVIS informed him politely.  (At least he wasn’t out to get Steve, too.)  “I’m afraid Sir is currently preoccupied, and I am under strict orders to keep the lab under complete and total lockdown.”

Shit.

“Well, could you give him a message for me?”

“I shall certainly try to.”  

“Thanks, JARVIS.  Can you tell him that I know he’s my soulmate?  Please let him know that I don’t care if he remembers anything or not.  I’ll remember enough for the both of us.  I was born with all my memories.  Every life, I remembered.  It was unhealthy and painful and the reason I was so sickly growing up.  As you know, there’s no cure for _Complete Anamnesis_.”  Steve took a breath.  “But it didn’t matter too much, because I knew I was going to find my soulmate.  I had in nearly every life, so why not this one, too?  My memories of them, my other half… they kept me warm most nights.  Even though I was always cold and lonely in my heart, the thought of seeing them again kept me going.  JARVIS, tell Tony…”  Steve trailed off.  He thought of other things he wanted to say to Tony.

“Tell Tony I loved him for the past eternity, and that I’m going to love him for the next eternity, too.”

Immediately, the doors slid open.

“You what?”  Tony demanded, before stalking up to Steve.  Steve blinked and took a few steps back.

“I love you, Tony.  Guess you heard everything, huh?”

“Yes, I did.  And no, you don’t.”  Tony said, flatly, like he was so sure, and it was breaking Steve’s heart.  “You don’t love me, and you aren’t my soulmate.  You can’t be.”

“Tony, sweetheart.”  Steve cautiously reached out a hand.  Tony didn’t flinch, so Steve grasped Tony’s hand.  “Of course I love you.  I fell in love with you months ago.  I know you felt it too, that thing between us.”

“Of course I did!  But in case you can’t tell, Steve, there’s a difference between flirting and soulmates!  Which we are not, of course.”

“Tony, you are one of the smartest men on this planet.  You know that even now, _anamnesis_ is still mainly a mystery to science.”

Tony snorted.  “I think I know that better than most, Steve.”

“Do you?”  Steve leveled a stare at Tony.  “I told you I had CA.  I told you I was an AnAm.  I met so many people that didn’t fit in with society and its notions about soulmates.  I met homosexuals and bisexuals whose soulmates were illegal.  I met people who knew too little, or not enough.  I met Arnie Roth in this life, and in a past life.  When I was three, I would cry, because I had so many memories of someone I loved murdered and tortured.  Growing up, I couldn’t sleep unless I was curled in my mother’s arms, because I was sure I was going to find her dead, or beaten, or violently murdered, or kidnapped, or abused, like I had in too many lives before.  With all you know about the murkiness of  _anamnesis_ , how can you say I don’t love you?  How can you say I’m not your soulmate?”

“Because you can’t be!”  Tony said, biting back tears.  “I don’t remember any past life.  I’m not important enough to be brought back to life!  I’m a dead soul!”

Steve grabbed both of Tony’s hand in his.

“Tony, have you ever thought that people without any _anamnesis_ just don’t have their memories because of outside circumstances?  I met so many people without any memories, and they all told me that they hoped the universe hadn’t put them here for just one life.  They all had grown up knowing that a lack of _anamnesis_ meant the universe didn’t love you.  But Tony, that couldn’t be less true!  Sometimes, people forget.  Tony, I know you.  I have our memories back.”

“But I don’t!  And even if what you say is true, there’s no way we could file for a soulmate license.”

“We won’t have to.  I’ll have you, and that’s enough.  And when you remember—”

“I’m not going to!”  Tony shouted.  “Steve, I have tried everything.  I’ve gone to every _anamnesis_ professional in the fucking world, and they’ve all told me I have no chance of remembering anything.  I’ve lived nearly forty years now with just this life, and these memories.  Can you live with that?  Can you live with a broken soulmate?  Can you live with a soulless monster?”

“Oh, Tony.  I’m so sorry.”  Steve gathered Tony in his arms.

“Steve, I’m not—I can’t—I’m just—”

“You’re just nothing, Tony Stark.  And even if I’m wrong, even if we aren’t soulmates, I still want to give this a shot.”

“If we aren’t soulmates, I really will be a deadsoul.  Can you live with that?”

“Tony there’s no such thing as dead souls.”  Tony made noises of protest. “No, listen to me.  So what, if you haven’t been alive before?  Everyone starts out somewhere.  No one knows how souls were first created.  Everyone assumes it was a big bang, with every soul being created at once.  But what if it wasn’t?  What if everyone has something they must do, and they must keep coming back until they succeed?  What if now, your soul is just beginning?”

Tony took a shaky breath.  “Steve… if you mean that—”

“I do.”  Steve said quickly.

“—If you meant that, then I’d be willing to give this a shot.  Give us a shot, that is.  I want you to be right.  But even if you aren’t, I still need you to be there for me.  Can you do that?”

“Hell yes!”  Steve leaned in.  He was going to kiss Tony now, goddamn it.

“Language,”  Tony said with a smirk.

Well, Steve just had to taste that smirk.

And Tony kissed him back, and when they went to bed together that night, he woke up beside a (thankfully) naked Steve and for once in his life, his soul was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I hoped I cleared up any confusion about this universe in this last chapter, but it not, don't hesitate to tell me! Im glad y'all stuck around for this last chapter, too. it means a lot to me.  
> if you have any questions/comment, be sure to comment.  
> give me validation and attention thnx :)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles are from Too Much Time by John Vanderslice. The main title (which I changed 3/28/17) is from Paracelsus by Robert Browning. The full passage is:
> 
> "At times I almost dream  
> I too have spent a life the sages' way,  
> And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance  
> I perished in an arrogant self-reliance  
> Ages ago; and in that act a prayer  
> For one more chance went up so earnest, so  
> Instinct with better light let in by death,  
> That life was blotted out -- not so completely  
> But scattered wrecks enough of it remain,  
> Dim memories, as now, when once more seems  
> The goal in sight again."


End file.
